


And Again and Again

by whataflammableheart



Series: To (Not) Be So Lonely [4]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, As in a reference to Kurt and the mall santa, Canonical Character Death - Finn Hudson, Compersion, Discussion of a threesome, Dom Kurt, Implied/Referenced BDSM, M/M, New York, Past Rape/Non-con, Polyamory, Post-Canon, Queer love, Romantic Fluff, post-NYADA
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:28:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27481231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whataflammableheart/pseuds/whataflammableheart
Summary: Blaine’s waist was deliciously small under Sam’s large hands. He laughed and tipped his head onto Sam’s shoulder. Sam turned to press a kiss to the top of Blaine’s ear. Kurt could feel himself smiling where he sat on the couch, bathed in the bubbly pop they were dancing to, his body heavy from sweet red wine.
Relationships: Blaine Anderson/Kurt Hummel, Blaine Anderson/Sam Evans/Kurt Hummel, Sam Evans/Kurt Hummel
Series: To (Not) Be So Lonely [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2008138
Comments: 6
Kudos: 25





	And Again and Again

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place after Kurt and Blaine have graduated from NYADA- they are not married but very happily together and just moved into their own apartment. Sam is back in New York and he and Blaine are dating too. In this heap of pure total fluff Kurt is tipsy, absolutely in love, happy about being polyamorous, and has heaps of dom energy. Also Sam is a flirt. So if that's your thing- enjoy!

Blaine’s waist was deliciously small under Sam’s large hands. He laughed and tipped his head onto Sam’s shoulder. Sam turned to press a kiss to the top of Blaine’s ear. Kurt could feel himself smiling where he sat on the couch, bathed in the bubbly pop they were dancing to, his body heavy from sweet red wine.

Watching Sam touch Blaine, Kurt examined the shape of the new thing inside him. It was warm and tight and right now it felt too big behind his sternum, as if all of him had to expand outward just to hold it. Blaine looked so happy and loved. Sam looked a little in awe.

Guests had started leaving and he was grateful. He was the kind of sleepy drunk that left him wanting to be covered in soft things, wanting to press his face into warm skin. It had been a perfect apartment warming, starting with classy appetizers, ending with drunken dancing, stuffed in the middle with comfortable banter and friendship. It was still a little bit of a shock to have so many people he wanted to share his life with, even more so that those people wanted to be there too. But grateful as he was, now he just wanted them gone so that he could curl up around his partner and whisper to him about this sweet newness.

Kurt had read the blogs and articles and books, he knew the word for it. _Compersion._ But it was a stuffy word. Reading it hadn’t prepared him for this. This fullness. It was like suffocating, but in a good way.

He lifted it up, poked around underneath, looking for the jealousy. He knew that could happen too, that it would be natural. He had prepared himself for it. He had felt it at times, earlier on. But now, watching Blaine dance with someone who was just as in love with him as Kurt, he couldn’t find it. What was there to be jealous of? He knew Blaine, knew his endless capacity for love, understood his deep commitment to Kurt. And he knew Sam too– honest, gentle Sam, who was better at talking about his feelings than almost anyone else Kurt knew.

 _Trust._ That was part of this too. It was a little startling how unfamiliar it still felt. Once, he had thought he knew what trust meant. He’d talked of no-cheating contracts and storybook endings. How wrong he’d been.

Sam glanced over Blaine’s head at Kurt, and he flushed a little when they locked eyes. Then he smiled, slow and easy. He whispered something into Blaine’s ear and Blaine turned too, jerking his head to urge Kurt to join them.

All of Kurt’s body wanted to stay on the couch, but the draw of Blaine was strong. It amazed him still, how deeply he could love another person, how hard times could come and go and the love just stayed. He thought of a sixteen-year-old hand extended towards him in an unfamiliar hallway, how lost he had been in so many ways, how different and the same from now. He thought that if he was a different person he might cry right then and there. He unfolded his limbs and stood up.

“ _Kurt,”_ Rachel trilled. She seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. “ _Amazing_ party. The apartment is beautiful. Of course I’ll always be partial to _our_ loft, but,” she sighed happily, “things change.” She looked behind her to where Jesse was hovering in the kitchen doorway, saying his goodbyes to someone on the other side. “We need to get going, Jesse has an early dance rehearsal.” Kurt could tell that the _we_ was still new and exciting to her. He was glad, as much as he just wanted her out the door right now.

“Thank you for coming,” he managed. He opened her arms to her and she accepted the hug before bouncing back.

“Of course, always.” She glanced towards Blaine and Sam, who were not paying attention just a little too studiously. “You’re alright?” She asked, completely missing the mark of nonchalance. Kurt raised his eyebrows delicately. He could handle Rachel at any degree of drunkenness. She was a bomb he’d been diffusing over and over since he was fifteen.

“More than alright, actually.” He kept his voice stiff and pointed. Rachel sniffed.

“Oh, alright. I just– I want you to be happy, Kurt. I don’t want you accepting any less than you deserve.” She was stage whispering, as if Blaine and Sam couldn’t hear every word she was saying. Kurt rolled his eyes and put a hand on her shoulder, guiding her towards the door.

“You’re talking to the man who managed a rotation of designer clothes for four years in _Lima, Ohio_. I know what I deserve, Rachel. I promise you, I am happy.” He looked at Blaine again and let his voice soften so that she would know he was being genuine. “Very happy.”

Rachel looked like she might say more, but thankfully Jesse chose that moment to appear at her shoulder, trailed by Dani and a couple NYADA friends.

“Ready, dearest?” he asked in his sometimes frighteningly upbeat way. Rachel looked between him and Kurt for a moment and Kurt shook his head. Thankfully, she took the hint.

“Ready,” she conceded. “Goodnight, Kurt.” She kissed him on the cheek and Blaine came over to say goodbye as well. In a flurry of hugs and promises to get coffee soon the apartment emptied of the remaining guests. Sam was still there, but Kurt found that he no longer counted Sam in the category of guest.

“More wine?” Kurt asked them both.

“Mm, maybe just water?” Blaine said, floating towards the couch Kurt had just been sitting on. Kurt nodded, feeling the fuzziness of alcohol magnified by the movement.

“Probably wise,” he said. Sam smiled and put a hand on Kurt’s shoulder.

“I can get them.” Kurt narrowed his eyes, suspicious that he was being laughed at, but nodded.

“Quite the gentleman, that boyfriend of yours,” he muttered to Blaine as he fell onto the couch beside him. Blaine giggled, lifting his arm so that Kurt could nestle more closely into his side.

“I love you so much,” Blaine said. That made Kurt laugh, though he couldn’t have said why. Maybe just because it continued to be a revelation, after so many years.

“It was so nice watching you dance together,” Kurt said, because it was true. “You looked so happy.” Blaine tightened his arm in a squeeze and didn’t respond for a moment.

“What have I done to deserve you?” His voice was a little lower, too serious for Kurt’s taste.

“Nothing. You don’t have to do anything to deserve love, Blaine. You just deserve it,” Kurt said into Blaine’s pec, where his face was pressed. Blaine hummed in response as Sam reentered the room, juggling three water glasses.

“You two are so cute,” he said, as if he was commenting on the weather. Kurt smiled. Blaine laughed. Sam set the glasses on the coffee table and settled into the armchair beside the couch. Everything glowed and Kurt blinked his eyes shut, inhaling the cinnamon of Blaine’s cologne.

“Is it okay that I’m sticking around for a bit?” Sam asked.

“Definitely,” Kurt said without hesitation.

“And you would tell me if it wasn’t?” Kurt opened his eyes so he could look at Sam.

“Of course.” Sam flicked his eyes up to Blaine and Kurt could feel him nod.

“Good.” Sam flopped back into the armchair, every muscle in his body relaxed.

Kurt sat up far enough to retrieve his water glass and drink most if it in one go, the clarity of it cutting through his wine-haze just the right amount. Then he flopped back into Blaine and let time stretch and slow, listening to the tick of the grandfather clock that he had discovered at a flea market and meticulously restored last year.

“Okay, I have a question,” Sam said from his armchair.

Kurt could feel Blaine’s chest move as he responded. “Yeah?

“Have you two ever thought about a threesome?” Blaine huffed and Kurt let his mouth curl into a smile. They _had_ talked about it. Kurt had been teetering on the edge of agreeing until that moment, but suddenly it felt inevitable. Something about the way the light softened the edges of the coffee table and his body had become nothing but surfaces with which to touch.

“Are you offering?” he asked, not quite sitting up but turning his head enough to make eye contact with Sam.

Sam blinked at Blaine and then let his eyes drop to meet Kurt’s gaze head on. His face was unguarded, lips parted, eyebrows creased just a little. Something in Kurt was buzzing. It almost hurt to look, Sam was so beautiful, and so unflinching about it.

“Uh, yeah,” he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Kurt bit his lip, as if he was considering. As if his mind wasn’t already well past made up. As if the idea hadn’t saturated his fantasies from the moment Blaine had first shyly suggested it, naked, fucked out, and face half-buried in a pillow. Kurt knew he had been waffling out of a desire to protect some softer, dreamier version of himself– the version that was still guarding a secret, shameful crush on the dopey, sexy, heterosexual jock sleeping in his guest bedroom.

But Sam wasn’t that jock anymore, and Kurt wasn’t that kid. Sam slowly dragged his gaze down Kurt’s body and then back up, landing at his lips. The thrill of being on the receiving end of such naked want slipped like a drug through Kurt’s veins. Blaine’s heartbeat had sped up under Kurt’s head. Sam’s tongue flicked out of his mouth, wetting his lips.

“Come kiss me, then,” Kurt said. He sat up, leg still pressed into Blaine’s from hip to knee, and waited.

Sam got up so quickly he bumped into the coffee table, spilling water over the lip of Blaine’s glass. Then he was there, perched on the edge of the couch, a large hand cradling Kurt’s jaw. He paused only at the last second, their lips a breath apart, to look up into Kurt’s eyes again. Kurt looked back, breath caught somewhere in the middle of an inhale.

The beginning of the kiss was careful and sweet. Everything that Sam was. His lips were softer than Blaine’s, and a little cooler. Kurt could taste the sticky sweetness of wine shared between their mouths as he let Sam open his, a tongue larger than Blaine’s flicking inside.

Sam was clearly used to leading, however gently, but when Kurt licked back into his mouth and threaded his fingers tightly into blonde hair Sam let out a little groan that seemed involuntary. Kurt smirked against Sam’s lips. Alright then.

Kurt sat up further on the couch, using his grip on Sam’s hair to tilt his head back, and Sam just _let_ him, letting out a breathy sigh that puffed hot on Kurt’s lips. Sam ran his thumb over the edge of Kurt’s jaw, and Kurt knew it was smooth like he liked it– he had shaved right before the party– but he wondered if Sam wished there was stubble there. If he was seeking out rough edges.

Kurt sucked Sam’s lower lip between his teeth and bit down just hard enough to make Sam’s fingers tighten around the base of his skull. Blaine let out something between a moan and a _whimper_ behind him so he reached back, seeking some part of his boyfriend to touch. His hand landed on Blaine’s knee and he slowly slid it up his thigh, fingers tracing familiar muscle.

He could imagine it so clearly now, taking both of these men apart, tasting every inch of their gorgeous bodies, watching them devour each other. The pleasure and the _power_ of it thrilled up Kurt’s thighs and down his chest, meeting where his jeans were growing uncomfortably tight.

But something wasn’t quite right. His head still swam with alcohol. When he was with Blaine like this, Kurt’s focus became laser sharp. There was nothing in the world but Blaine’s body, Blaine’s pleasure, sometimes– more recently– Blaine’s pain. Now, the edges around everything were a little fuzzy, his movements clumsy. Instinct told him to take control of the situation, but in reality he wasn’t even entirely in control of his own body. He broke the kiss, gasping.

Sam didn’t miss a beat before redirecting his attention to Kurt’s throat. He bent his head and sucked and licked and _bit_ and _God_ his _mouth._ Kurt’s grip slackened on Sam’s hair. Blaine was touching Kurt’s stomach, his chest, thumb grazing a nipple through his tight shirt. He could give in, so easily. Part of him knew that if he waited just a moment longer Blaine’s mouth would be on him too, and he _wanted_ it, but–

“We should do this sober,” Kurt panted. It didn’t come out quite as decisive as he might have hoped, but it was enough to stop Sam’s (stupid, perfect, unbelievable) lips on Kurt’s collarbone. Sam raised his head.

“I’m not that drunk,” he rushed to say. It was so earnest, so clumsy. Kurt was dizzy with it. He felt Blaine take his hand, squeezing. Warm. Grounding.

“Kurt had a bad experience with hooking up while drunk a few years ago,” Blaine said. Right. That was true. Kurt remembered being almost naked, tied up, too fucked up to do anything about it. That was why. He leaned forward to grab his glass of water, finishing it in one swallow.

For a while after Kurt and Blaine had gotten back together Kurt wouldn’t even make out with Blaine while drunk. Now, things were easier. They had talked about it extensively, they had clear boundaries and safewords and years of hard-earned trust between them. They never scened with any alcohol in either of their systems, but sometimes they fucked after a few drinks. This was different though. Sam wasn’t Blaine, and a threesome wasn’t even in the same ballpark as making love to his partner of six years.

“I’m sorry, Kurt. I didn’t know.” Sam was looking at him, eyebrows furrowed in worry, as if he’d, like, _jumped_ Kurt or something. As if it hadn’t been Kurt’s idea to begin with. Kurt put down his empty glass and looked Sam directly in the eyes.

“You don’t need to apologize. It was awhile ago. It doesn’t come up much anymore but.” He glanced to Blaine and then back to Sam. “This feels important.” And it did. Kurt didn’t know what it would be like between the three of them after being _together_ like that. Even kissing Sam for a few minutes with Blaine there had been intense. So consuming that Kurt had almost gotten lost in it.

Sam nodded, sinking back against the couch. Kurt relaxed against Blaine, eyes still on Sam as he thought. There was so much history between the three of them. So much care. Kurt remembered Sam showing up at the door of his house in high school, wearing an oversized polo, poorly fit khakis, and a baseball cap with the Pizza Planet logo on it. He remembered Blaine coming to find him when he took awhile at the door. Blaine and Sam had never met before that night, but even then Blaine made Sam feel so at ease, and Kurt had– he’d loved them. Both of them. Even then.

“I think I had a crush on you in high school,” Sam said, as if picking up a conversation they hadn’t been having. Kurt balked.

“Oh my god, I knew it! I was totally right!” Blaine sat up a little in his enthusiasm, shifting Kurt’s head. Kurt turned to look at him.

“What?” he asked, disbelieving.

“You guys had your sweet little desert thing, remember?” Blaine looked over Kurt to Sam. “And you came in that one time while I was there and after you left I was so sure you were into him. That’s why I like– attacked you in Glee about body rolls or whatever.”

Kurt could remember the day Blaine was talking about. He and Sam had started bringing desert (or sometimes, in Sam’s case, bowls of sugary cereal) to each other’s rooms after dinner shortly after Sam moved in. Kurt couldn’t remember how it had started, but the ritual had always been sweet and innocent and a little awkward. He’d been annoyed that Blaine had thrown a fit the next day in Glee after finding out about it, but he’d thought it was because Blaine suspected that Kurt had a crush on Sam, not the other way around.

“Oh wow I forgot about that,” Sam shook his head a little, chuckling.

“ _That’s_ what you were so worked up about?” Kurt asked.

“Well he was living in your house!” Blaine said. “And obviously he’s like, stupid sexy.” Sam laughed again. “And I was really insecure about my body. I got it in my head that he was gonna steal you away from me.”

“Oh how the tables have turned,” Kurt teased, nudging Sam with his knee. Sam shook his head again in disbelief. He looked at Blaine intently.

“Um, dude, in what world is anyone who likes having gay sex going to break up with someone with an ass like yours?” Kurt laughed as Blaine rolled his eyes. “Like obviously I’m ripped but Kurt would have to be out of his mind to choose this flat ass over yours.”

“Sam’s an ass guy,” Blaine inclined his head to Kurt, as if letting him in on a secret. Kurt shrugged.

“Well I’ve never described myself as an ass guy but I _am_ pretty partial to yours.” He bent his mouth close to Blaine’s ear and lowered his voice playfully. “But you already know that.” It was mostly a joke, but Blaine swallowed visibly as Kurt sucked his earlobe between his teeth, smirking. He loved nothing more than putting on a show.

“That’s hot,” Sam said, and that feeling rushed Kurt’s chest again, the intensity, the vastness of _this._ He ducked his head, trying to float on it rather than sink.

“If you’re into butts I don’t know what you ever saw in me,” he turned on Sam, all levity, but Sam looked legitimately shocked.

“Are you kidding? Yours is–” he paused. “Can I say that? Can I call your butt cute?” Kurt blushed, despite himself. It wasn’t as if people (mostly, but not only, Blaine) hadn’t said much dirtier things to him before, but coming from _Sam Evans…_

“If you insist,” he shrugged, fighting for nonchalance. Blaine giggled into Kurt’s shoulder.

“Well,” Sam’s cheeks pinkened, “it is.” He rushed to move on, looking– bless him– _embarrassed._

“But anyway, it was more like. I was just fascinated by you, you know? At the time I thought it was just because I’d never met anyone like you before but looking back on it…” He tucked his socked feet up on the sofa, hugging his knees boyishly. “I like listened to those recordings you sent me of you singing all the time. And no offense, it was a really nice gesture, but I never would have worn that coat thing you gave me if I didn’t like how it smelled. It wasn’t exactly my style.”

“Oh my god, Sam, that’s so precious,” Blaine cooed. Kurt was speechless. The thought of it– football playing, guitar strumming, cheerleader dating _Sam_ privately listening to recordings of his voice and smelling the lining of his trench coat– it sent thrills through the wistful high school parts of him that he had been sure had grown up and matured. He smiled at Sam, and lifted his arm up, silently inviting him closer.

Sam grinned and cuddled his head against Kurt’s chest. He practically needed to curl himself into a ball in order to fit with Kurt already slouched against Blaine, but he didn’t seem to mind.

“You never had any idea?” Sam asked. Kurt hummed. Thinking back to that time always hurt a little. There had been _so much_ he hadn’t had any idea about.

“I don’t know,” he said. “Maybe if I’d let myself think about it. Finn talked me out of doing the duet with you because he said it would paint a target on your back and I guess I got it in my head that you were better off without me.” Blaine reached across himself to take Kurt’s hand and squeeze again. “And that like, I was the bad guy if I was into you and it turned out you really were straight. I always had my doubts about that though.” Kurt squeezed Sam’s shoulder where his hand had landed, teasing again. Sam laughed.

“You saw right through me.” He paused. “That’s really fucked up that Finn said that to you,” he said carefully. “I mean, obviously you guys loved each other and I– I kind of thought of him as a brother too, you know? I loved him. But still.” Kurt sighed. Finn was a dull, familiar ache, even in his imperfections.

“He could be a bit obtuse,” he smiled.

“Obtuse?” Sam asked.

“Dense,” Blaine supplied.

“Oh. Yeah.” Sam traced little circles on Kurt’s knee. “I always wondered why you backed out of the duet. I was really bummed about it.”

“Really?” At the time Kurt had been so wrapped up in his own melancholy that he couldn’t remember really thinking about how Sam felt about it. When Sam had immediately paired up with Quinn he assumed Sam was happy to be set free of him. Which was, in hindsight, a pretty classic young Kurt Hummel move, he thought.

“Yeah,” Sam said. “And like, the song you did instead. I mean, it was obviously awesome and super impressive, but, I don’t know…” He clenched his fingers over Kurt’s knee once before continuing his circles. “It seemed really sad too, and like, lonely.” Kurt nodded.

“What did you do instead?” Blaine asked.

“Le Jazz Hot from–” Kurt started.

“Victor/Victoria,” Blaine filled in. “Damn, I bet you killed that.”

“He did,” Sam said. “But the assignment was to do a duet.”

“And I did one with myself.”

“Oh, Kurt.” Blaine entwined their fingers, voice soft. Kurt felt pulled by the contradiction of it. How sure he had been then that he would be alone for years, remembering the hurt of that, and the warmth of these two people on either side of him who had proved him wrong.

“You’re right, it was a lonely time,” he said.

“Until you met this guy?” Sam asked, placing his hand on top of Kurt and Blaine’s for a moment.

“Mmm,” Kurt hummed.

“It took more than just me,” Blaine said. “You had to make that decision on your own.” Kurt smiled, loving him hugely.

“To not be lonely?” Sam asked.

“To trust other people to be there and stay,” Kurt explained. “Even when things get messy.”

“But you trust people now?

“It’s a work in progress I think.” He thought of his dad and Carole, of Blaine, and Elliott and Rachel. “There are a few people I trust completely, and I’m working on growing that list,” he said.

“Do you think I could be on it someday?” Sam asked. Kurt inhaled. There it was again, like a kick in the chest this time. Something massive. Something changing. Sam backtracked. “Sorry that was a weird question to ask, you don’t have to answer that.”

“That’s okay,” Kurt said. He took another deep breath. The thing was… “I think so. Yeah.”

“Oh.” Sam exhaled. “I’d really like that.” Kurt thought about how he had never heard Sam say something and not mean it with everything in him, and he couldn’t have kept himself from smiling if he’d tried

“Me too,” he said. Sam nestled a little further into Kurt’s chest. Blaine let go of Kurt’s hand to gather up Sam’s, pressing a kiss to Kurt’s shoulder as he did so. And they all just. Held each other like that. Sweetly. The moment stretched and spun around them, glowy and delicate. Kurt felt something gathering in him, his stomach heavy with the threads of it, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to put it into words.

“Hey Kurt?” Sam broke the silence.

“Yeah?”

“Will you go out with me?” Kurt froze.

“What?” That was it, the unnamable thing, the thing that could be their downfall. All of them. And it was ridiculous because no one just asks like that, like that’s all it is. Except of course Sam would. And that’s what was dangerous because Kurt could _fall_ for that. He could _want_ it. Want it to work. Even though there were a million ways it might not.

“I want to take you on a date.” Sam sat up, looking steadily at Kurt. “Before we all, you know, have hot, gay, polyamorous sex.” He tossed a wink at Blaine and Blaine made a sort of strangled noise that would have made Kurt laugh in, literally _any_ other circumstance. But he was in the middle of–

“Oh, I–” Of deciding not to _not_ be afraid, but to run headfirst into what scared him. “If that’s–” Kurt disentangled himself enough to look at Blaine. “I mean, is that okay? That’s not something we’ve talked about.” Blaine was grinning, his eyes crinkling with it.

“If that would make both of you happy,” he turned his grin on Sam for a moment, “I don’t think anything could make me happier.” Kurt nodded, dread and joy battling in his chest as he turned back to Sam.

“Okay,” he said.

“Okay?” Sam was beaming.

“Okay.” Sam wrapped his hand around the back of Kurt’s head and smacked his forehead with a kiss. Kurt couldn’t help but chuckle as Sam stretched back on the couch, arms along the back of it.

“I’m going to sweep you off your feet, Kurt Hummel,” he declared.

“Oh I expect you to,” Kurt said, lips quirking. “I have it on good authority that on your first date with Blaine there were literal fireworks.”

“It was pretty magical,” Blaine confirmed.

“Don’t you worry, I’ve got plenty of romance to go around.” Sam nodded his assurance, looking entirely pleased with himself.

“There will be a lot of logistics to talk about,” Kurt said, because he couldn’t _not_ say it. “To make this all work.” Sam shrugged.

“Totally, yeah. But it’s nothing we can’t handle. We’re, like, basically experts at romantic logistics.” Kurt snorted despite himself.

“I don’t know about _experts._ ”

“I do,” Sam said. Blaine squeezed Kurt’s shoulder.

“We’ll talk about all of it, and then we’ll talk about it again.”

“And again,” Sam added. Blaine smiled.

“But we don’t have to tonight, right? Unless there’s anything that feels urgent for you?” Kurt thought about it. He knew Blaine meant that– that they could talk right here, right now if Kurt wanted. But hearing their reassurances that the conversations would happen made the urgency melt a little. They would all still be there in the morning.

And again and again.

And if he could believe that, really believe it, maybe the seventeen-year-old inside of him– who had taken a stranger’s hand in an unfamiliar hallway and ran with him, who had confidently declared himself the new boy’s duet partner, who had just had a _feeling_ , a _yes, this person, right here_ feeling, and who had _trusted_ it– wasn’t so far away.

“Nothing urgent I don’t think, no.”

“I have one urgent question,” Sam said, deadpan.

“What’s that?” Kurt asked.

“Who will be in the middle when we all spoon?”

“Dibs,” Blaine said immediately, and Kurt laughed. And he felt it in his whole body, bubbling, soaring, hopeful. The thrill of something new amongst the sweet familiarity of these old loves. He didn’t, as a rule, believe in destiny, or greater plans, but for a moment it felt undeniable– that this was always supposed to be on their path. That in every version of reality where there was a Kurt and a Blaine and a Sam they loved each other, one way or another.


End file.
